The Visit
by AuroraGoddess
Summary: A shippery short story taking place after Old Ares Had A Farm. Xena keeps her promise to visit Ares.


**The Visit  
By: Aurora Goddess**

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the characters from XWP. This fanfic is for entertainment purposes only.  
**Rated:** M, for a very minor suggestive adult scene but nothing heavy.  
**Written:** December '07-February '08  
**Author's Note:** This is my entrance back into the world of narrative fan fiction. I have been away for quite a long time, since about 2001 (except for one or two very short vignettes I wrote in 2003 and 2007, respectively—the latter more of a short description than anything). I've been gone for various reasons, mostly working on the _Shipper Seasons_ but also I haven't come up with any good stories or haven't been able to write them. In December I told myself that I wanted to get back into writing again and so this is my debut into fanfic after a long time away from it all. I felt like writing something that's a bit fluffy, a bit romantic, that just kind of describes some of the things I love about the Xena/Ares relationship. I didn't have any idea for some long, drawn out plot, just a short story that deals with a small gap in their story that could be told. I hope you enjoy!  
**Summary:** A shippery short story taking place after _Old Ares Had A Farm_. Xena keeps her promise to visit Ares.

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Argo's hoof sank into a puddle of mud, splashing the thick, dirty brown water up onto her legs as Xena, seated on her back, gingerly guided her along a slushy path through a dense forest. It had rained hard the night before and it showed.

The sunlight peaked through the leaves of the trees in front of her, shinning through the tiny droplets of water that dripped off each leaf, sparkling like diamonds.

The farmhouse lay just over the next hill.

A once abandon little shack, covered in cobwebs and dust, where the roof leaked when it rained and the mice and other tiny creatures called it home, was now the living quarters for the now-mortal former God of War.

After Xena had brought him there to save him from a bunch of bloodthirsty warlords out to settle an old score with whatever was left of their once powerful god, Xena suggested that he take up the life of a farmer and stay a while. When Gascar and his men were no longer a threat, she and Ares had parted ways. He had the little mutt, Horace, with him and a nice supply of chickens, pigs, and cows to sustain him for a while.

There, he would be safe.

Ares had been less than convinced, however, and imagining spending the rest of his days on a rundown little farmhouse was not a fitting end for the God of War, even a former one. He was desperate to move on to a more exciting life.

It was the promise that Xena would come back and visit him one day that made him stay.

And Xena always kept her promises.

As she road Argo through the damp forest, her mind focused on the little farm. Part of her wondered if she would even find him there. She had always known that living the simple life would never last long for him. He had an active spirit, just as she had. Despite her longing to live that kind of a life after all she'd been through, she knew neither of them would ever be able to live a life like that indefinitely. They were warriors and always would be.

It had only been a couple of months since they had left Ares. A few days ago, Gabrielle had wanted to return home to Potidaea to visit her sister and her niece. She hadn't told Gabrielle that she was going back to the farmhouse to visit Ares—it wasn't even a thought that she'd had at the time when she and Gabrielle said their goodbyes in a crowded tavern one morning.

Xena's decision to return to the farm came to her one morning after Gabrielle had left. She woke up in the forest that morning instinctively looking over to the other side of the fire where Gabrielle would sleep only to remember that she wasn't there. The thought that she had gone home to her family made Xena's mind shift to her own home—to Amphipolis—and finally, to the farm.

She debated with herself whether she wanted to visit Ares there. She had told him that she might return one day, and he had been intent on waiting there for her, or so she assumed. The thought of what he would say when she showed up unexpectedly made her chuckle. She loved pulling him around, playing with him. There was a lightheartedness between them now that he was a mortal. Seeing that surprise in his eyes and the grin on his face when she walked in the door was enough to make her look forward to her return even more. They had come to something of an understanding during that brief time on the farm; a warmness and a playfulness that had never once been part of their interaction but seemed to come so naturally and freely while she had been willing to share her childhood home with him.

He'd changed a lot since becoming mortal, in subtle ways that were a far cry away from who he had been as a god. He'd bonded with that little dog and had been saddened when he'd run away. He wined and complained about mortal life, but he'd found something of a peace in it as well, a stark contrast to his dark and destructive days of waging wars as a god. The farm had become something of a place of release even if he didn't want to admit it. She knew that the fact that she had been around had made it better for him—and that it was the hope that she'd return was the only thing keeping him there after she was gone.

Xena pushed Argo into a determined trot as they reached the crest of the shady hill. The farmhouse was in the distance in the valley below, surrounded by cornfields, the stalks swaying in the gentle breeze. The place was as warm and inviting and no less worse for wear than it had been the last time she'd been there.

She brought Argo down the hill to the front of the house and dismounted, letting Argo linger behind her, taking an interest in a tall patch of grass, as Xena walked up to the door. The thought of knocking had crossed her mind—it had been her house many years before and so she'd normally walk in and out as she chose. But it had been a couple of months since she left Ares there and it was, in fact, _his_ home now—at least, that's what she'd made it out to be.

She raised her hand to the door and knocked gently.

No answer.

She tried again but still, the only sound she heard was Argo's soft contented whinnies from behind her.

Xena lowered her hand and went for the handle, gripping it and pushing forward until the door creaked and groaned as if it protested to being opened. She looked inside the dark, quiet room.

The roof looked better—no more holes to let in the rain. The floor creaked a little as she stepped into the room. The table in the kitchen and the counter in front of the window were spotless, free of dust and dishes. The place displayed no signs of life, looking exactly as it had when she, Gabrielle and Ares first arrived there.

"Ares?" Her voice was firm, but gentle. The sound hung in the warm air and then faded.

Still, there was no answer.

Xena's face began to fall, reflecting disappointment as she began to wonder if Ares really _had _taken off at some point during those months that she'd left him there. Could she really have expected him to stick around? Promises weren't entirely a given when it came to them—he'd done much for her by giving up his godhood and all she had to offer him was a one-in-a-billion chance of them being together and a hope that she would visit him on the farm one day, only to see him wallowing in the sorry life that he had ended up in. Maybe he hadn't wanted her to see him in such a state of disgrace.

The sound of a loud crash and a muffled voice cursing disturbed the silence. Xena looked behind her, out the door, to where the sound had come from—the barn. All was quiet again before she saw Horace dash out of the barn, barking wildly, bursting with playful energy, and then disappearing into the forest behind the house.

Her eyes lit up slightly as she began to grin.

He _hadn't_ left.

----------------------

Coming up to the barn door, she peered in, wondering what had caused the ruckus. What she saw made it hard for her to suppress a chuckle. Ares was sprawled out on the ground, his vest and pants covered in milk, the half-empty bucket tipped over and lying next to him. The cow, whom looked as unimpressed as ever, was standing behind him, uttering her disapproval and picking up her feet to get out of the sticky white mess.

Xena put her hand over her mouth, letting her low chuckles disintegrate into her palm, not wanting Ares to know she was watching him. It really was a sight to see him so helpless as he was. Lying beneath the cow, covered in milk—no one would ever think to wonder he'd once been a powerful god.

Slowly, he picked himself up, the straw sticking to him like glue, displeasure and annoyance clearly showing in his eyes and his face. He muttered a quite, "Damn mutt," as he brushed himself off as best he could. It was really doing no good. The white liquid was absorbing into his vest and his pants already, and he felt wet, sticky and uncomfortable.

What he wouldn't give to have his powers right about now.

With a quick motion, he picked up the bucket and set it upright. Most of the milk had already spilled out and he knew he'd have to spend another hour milking the cow to get back what he had lost.

He raised his head and saw a shadow standing in the doorway of the barn, the outline of a figure he knew all too well. Instinctively, his heart started beating faster. He glanced up and his eyes met Xena's.

The warmness in those eyes, an almost quiet joy reflecting in them and unknowingly radiating into him, filled him with ease—and he forgot all about his misfortune with the milk bucket.

"Xena." He said her name steadily, but with anxiety, joy and relief all mixed up in one tone that came out easier than anything else he could say.

Xena smiled, but only just a little, almost cautiously. She didn't know if she could really let him see her being happy to see him.

It wasn't that she wasn't happy, of course.

It had been months—and the way they had parted before, the way she lightly pinched his cheek when he went in for a kiss (it was always more fun to tease him than to let him have what he wanted) gave her a feeling of easiness between them, that it didn't always have to be intense conflict or passion as it was before when he was a god.

That time on the farm made her realize something important—that she enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed hers. They were truly on equal footing now that he was mortal.

But something inside her was still uneasy about letting herself feel at ease around him, and she didn't quite know why.

Ares stood back silently, watching her. The fact that she had kept her promise meant more to him than he ever could have explained. It took her months, but she had come.

Still gazing at her, Ares stepped forward—and clumsily knocked the bucket of milk over again. The last of the liquid splashed onto his boot. He looked down and grunted, kicking the bucket away in fury. Xena chuckled again, this time louder, almost a full laugh.

Ares looked up at her and she could see the humiliation on his face. Coming back to reality, he was plainly aware that he was soaking wet again—and standing this way, in front of Xena, was the worst humiliation he had ever felt. Everyone in a tavern might watch him make a fool of himself and it would be humiliating, to be sure, but to act stupidly in front of Xena made him want to shrink back and hide like some little child. It was just another painful reminder of just how different he was as a mortal, and what a low point he had found himself at in life.

He quickly turned away from her eyes and went over to a small bench beside the cow and sat down, taking a rag that had been lying on the ground beside where the bucket had been, and began to desperately rub it over his boot.

Xena stood still a moment, wondering if she should approach him or not. It was difficult to admit, even in her mind, that he was adorable sitting there trying to clean the milk off. The rough movements of his hands as he wiped the rag against the leather of his boots, the way he let out brief sounds of annoyance at not getting the results he wanted—that after wiping the surface they were still sticky and wet. Even his posture, slumped over, his hand grinding against the toe of his boot, then up its side where it connected with the rim of his pants, his arms straining to dry himself as much as possible, was amusing.

In some remarkable way, vulnerability looked good on him.

Xena stepped forward and reached out her hand.

"Here."

She touched his shoulder and he looked up at her. She took the rag from him.

"Why don't you put something else on? We'll go down to the pond and wash these out."

Ares looked up at her, thinking she was probably right. He didn't really fancy the idea of walking around in wet and sticky cloths, waiting for them to dry. Not exactly a comfortable experience.

Ares stood up.

"So, it's back to rags again, then?" He chuckled, remembering the horrible—yet surprisingly comfortable—rags he had worn months ago on the farm, when he was trying to "look the part" of an average, overly bossy farmer.

Xena looked down, chuckling. "Unless you have something else."

He didn't.

Xena smiled. "What happened, anyway? I heard a crash and then Horace ran out of the barn."

"Horace decided it was more fun to play 'knock over the bucket' than it was to catch a chicken like I wanted him to." Ares shook his head. "I swear, sometimes I wonder about that dog."

Ares really did like that dog, much to Xena's surprise. It was just one more thing that showed her Ares was not the same as he had been.

She slapped a hand on his shoulder, joviality.

"Come on. Lets get you cleaned up."

----------------------

The water was cool and inviting as Ares stepped into the shallow pond not far from the farmhouse. The milk really had soaked through his cloths all the way to his skin, leaving him feeling very sticky and uncomfortable. The brown shirt and pants that were to be his substitute clothing until his leathers dried were lying in a pile by a row of bushes.

He leaned back against the bank, rubbing a soft sea sponge over his chest, letting the water wash away all the residue of the milk. He'd come to this pond many times before to bathe but it felt especially pleasant this time. Maybe it was because he knew Xena was just around the next corner, hanging his wet leathers from a tree to dry.

Just the mere thought of her always made him giddy, in the most unimaginable ways possible. He would never let it show, of course, but the way she could make him so utterly weak in her eyes still surprised him. The way she looked at him and uttered a genuinely caring "Thank you" after he'd given up his immortality to save her daughter and Gabrielle was a perfect example of how much emotional power she had over him. In that moment, everything had been all right.

Closing his eyes, he thought back to the time when she had kissed him on that hilltop after their brutal fight to the death. Her kiss had been warm and gentle then, so different from all the other kisses they had shared. His lips had been swollen, his body ached from their fight and yet, in that moment, the pain had subsided and all that was left was them together. She'd told him, "You're bad for me, " yet still, she had chosen to help him against the warlords who were out for his blood, taken him to a place that was of sentimental value to her and disguised him, even fought for him, in order to protect his life. Was it all just a sympathy act? Or had it been more—much more?

She had come back to visit him. For now, that's all that really mattered.

----------------------

Xena walked back to the pond some time later, moving across the ground quietly. Through the cluster of bushes surrounding the pond, she saw Ares stepping out of the water and reaching for his cloths—and for that moment, she was taken aback by the magnificent shape of his form. The bushes discreetly covered his most private features, but she could see the water glistening on his skin, his hair wet, the chiseled curve of the muscles on his chest and his arms.

Even without his godhood, even though mortality had clearly taken it's toll on him over the past year and a half—the slightly graying tuffs of hair, the lack of luster in his eyes, the disappearance of a subtle but very noticeable once it's gone, glow to his body—he was still a step above most men, and he looked as good as ever.

After adjusting his pants and pulling the shirt over his head, he looked up and realized that she was staring back at him. Her eyes moved away quickly, knowing that he had noticed her ogling him despite herself. All he could do was smirk. She muttered a muffled, "What?"—more displeasure at herself than at him; but then, she always did get defensive when she was caught off guard in a moment that she wanted no one else to see—as she came up to him.

"Your cloths will be dry in a few hours."

"Good," Ares grinned, "because I don't think I'd want to spend any longer in these rags."

"I think you should keep that dog on a leash next time you decide to milk the cow. Unless you like more of it on you than in the bucket."

"He's wild; what can I say?"

Ares grinned and she couldn't help but smile.

Silence fell quietly between them. Alone with their thoughts, they didn't know what to say.

Finally, Xena spoke. "So, how have you...been?"

She looked away. It was a perfectly honest question to ask—what people always do when they haven't seen someone for a time—and yet, somehow, it felt awkward.

"The usual," he shrugged. "Milking cows, feeding the dog, fixing that leaky roof—do you _know _how much it rains around here?" He shook his head. "And those chickens..." He shuddered for a moment—the chickens were the worst thing about that farm. "I don't know how you ever talked me into this, such a pitiful place for the God of War to end up."

Ares kicked his toe into the dirt. She walked toward him.

"Then why did you stay?"

Even before the words left her lips, she already knew the answer.

Ares raised his eyes to meet Xena's. There was a warmness staring back at her. "Because I knew you'd come back."

It was more of a hope, really, but a hope that had sustained him on that farm for months.

Xena looked back at him and realized that she was standing closer to him than she had intended. Their hands almost touching, she felt a strange pull in her heart, a feeling she knew she had to resist.

Horace's barking interrupted the silence. The little dog came running up behind them, wagging his tail, his tongue hanging out of his mouth and jumped toward Xena in an excited greeting. The force pushed Xena back enough that she bumped into Ares. He lost his footing and the two of them tumbled into the pond. The dog's excited barking erupted as he jumped about on the bank while Xena and Ares lay in the water.

She'd landed on top of him, into his arms, her hands holding her up, her fingers sinking into the muddy bank of the pond. She looked at him and he looked at her.

Whether it was the haphazard way they had ended up in the pond, or the fact that by some strange chance, Horace had planned this whole thing, she didn't know, didn't care, but in a moment, before she even had time to think, she found herself locked in a kiss with him.

A passionate kiss, much like the many they had shared in Amphipolis all those years ago—yet somehow, something about this kiss was different. It was passionate and tender all at the same time. She let her lips graze across his, let her tongue slide inside his mouth, in a union that could hardly be matched by any other man she had kissed in years passed. His lips always had a fullness to them, a supple softness and warmth. There was strength behind that kiss.

She lifted her hand and pulled him toward her.

He was taken aback by her sudden openness to passion with him, but he didn't care. He wove his fingers through her wet hair; he brushed the little black strands of hair that stuck to her face aside, cupping her cheeks in his hands as they kissed.

But just as soon as it began, it was over.

Xena pulled back quickly, startling Ares to the point that their lips jerked apart and she freed herself from his arms.

She sat still for a moment, looking at him. He thought about whether he should say something, but ultimately decided against it.

Briskly, she stood up and walked off leaving him sitting in the water.

He wondered if he had dreamt the entire thing.

----------------------

Argo stood silently, enjoying a tiny patch of tall green grass growing along the side of the barn. Xena came out of the forest ahead and walked toward her horse, reaching out to graze her hand over Argo's soft nose. She ran her hand gently over Argo's neck, losing herself to her thoughts.

_They'd kissed._

This was exactly the reason why she had intended not to get close to him when he was mortal. He'd always affected her; there was desire and passion and conflict between them. But as a mortal, there was a different kind of connection, one created by humanity and love. She'd told him there wasn't much of a chance—and she knew there were many reasons why it couldn't work—but whether that was simply her mind doing all of the thinking or if it was really true, she still wasn't sure. Physically, he was the same as he'd always been but underneath it all, he'd been transformed into something worthwhile, with a human conscience, a capacity to love, and that's what affected her the most.

And then lying there, on top of him, the water around them, kissing him, felt like the most natural thing in the world, and a place that her heart told her she wanted to be. Yet, somehow, something was telling her it didn't feel right.

She knew she had to leave, before it went further than it already had.

Xena gripped Argo's mane and put one foot into the saddle, lifting herself into the stirrup and swinging one leg over, seating herself firmly onto Argo's back. Looking up, she glanced toward the cluster of trees surrounding the pond and smiled, very slightly, letting the breeze catch her hair, brushing it away from her face. _Ares would understand_, she thought.

Or would he?

Leaving him without even saying goodbye didn't feel right. After all, _she'd _come there to check up on him, and then simply left him sitting soaking wet in the pond after they had shared the first real kiss between them since they parted ways on that hilltop after the Furies had driven him mad.

Xena held the reigns tightly in her hands, stuck between needing to move forward and staying back.

"Xena." He was calling to her.

Xena turned her head and found Ares walking toward her, dripping wet. She could have left at that moment.

She didn't.

He stood in front of Argo, looking very vulnerable.

He spoke quietly. "Don't leave."

She was almost surprised. Was he pleading? She had never seen him this honest with her before. Xena sighed and dismounted from Argo's back. She purposely kept her distance from him, but it was difficult.

"Ares—"

"I love you."

He'd never said it directly to her before. Well, except that night before the battle with the gods when he visited her outside Joxer's tavern in the rain and tried to distract her while the Furies had their way with Gabrielle.

This time was much different. He sounded more sincere than he'd ever been before, his eyes soft. It nearly made her knees weak, her spine tingle.

She moved toward him, softening her gaze and spoke, "I know."

She didn't know what else to say.

"Xena, let me travel with you." He'd asked her once before, back when she said goodbye to him on the beach just after they had come down from Olympus when he was newly mortal. Then, she hadn't been ready to have him join her in her life, but now...

"Gabrielle will be waiting for me. I have to catch up with her."

It was a lame excuse.

She turned from him—looking at him was too difficult—but Ares reached out quickly and grabbed her arm. With all her will, she kept her eyes from looking into his. Just one look from him now would surely break her resolve.

"You're leaving because we kissed?"

There was a slight edge to his voice and it made her feel strangely guilty.

Ares stared at her and before she had a chance to pull away, he turned her around, took her in his arms and leaned in, kissing her. The love was there; her resolve breaking with every passionate caress of his lips.

She let the kiss linger until it was Ares who chose to pull back. She was breathless.

"You walked away from me once. You said there was a one-in-a-billion chance." He touched her cheek, gently. She felt a tingle beneath her skin, a pleasurable sensation she could hardly describe. It was like the tingle she got every time he was near when he was a god; a buzz, an electric spark, lingering in the air before he'd appear. Except now, he had no powers, and she _still _felt it.

"And now..." he said gently. Her eyes closed. "...you want me to believe nothing has changed?"

She continued to let his hand slide across her skin, feeling the tenderness, the warmth of his touch.

_Everything had changed._

Her resistance was gone.

She raised her hand to touch his—so gentle, so tender.

Her face was filled with conflict; conflict between her head and her heart. Her body was still filled with the sensation of his touch, his kiss—that warmth. She wasn't sure she could let it go. Not now. Not after seeing him change as a mortal, feeling _herself _change.

If she left now, it might be months before she saw him again—months before she saw his eyes looking back at her, so surrendered, so vulnerable to his feelings for her. He was not a god anymore and she couldn't see him whenever either one of them liked. She never knew the feeling of being apart from him, for good, would feel so...sad.

She wasn't ready to have him travel with her, though—the constant contact between them could bring her to places she just wasn't ready to visit.

Ares continued to watch her. Waiting. He wanted to reach out and pull her back but couldn't muster up his arms to do so.

Xena stood completely silent for a moment, unmoving. _This might be the last time we see each other_, she thought. Mortality was very unpredictable; she knew that. And, for a former god, being mortal for a year or two was like being a child, after having spent thousands of years with no fear of injury or death. _Would he still be here when I get back?_

That's what made up her mind for her.

She had only just begun to step back and, already, Ares felt his heart sink.

_She was leaving again._

He let her hand go as she stepped back. Pain in his heart, a dryness in his throat. He knew he couldn't make her stay if she didn't want to, no matter how much he knew she cared.

_One step, one gallop, and she'd be gone._

Then, slowly but purposefully, she reached to her shoulder and undid the clasp holding her breastplate up. One, then the other unhooked, she let it fall to the ground. Reaching back, she removed her sword and the metal plate at her back and let it drop to the ground as well.

The reality of what she was doing made Ares' heart beat faster—seeing her there, ready to undress before him made him weak and hot, all at the same time. Yet somehow it didn't feel quite right. Xena moved toward him, and touched his brow, his face, trailing the curve of his chin with a light touch. She took his hand and guided it over her chest until it rested over her heart.

He could felt her heart beat quickening, her body relaxing under his touch. She leaned toward his lips, and kissed him without hesitation.

Within a moment, she pulled back and left him breathless, nearly unable to think clearly.

"This isn't what I want," he breathed.

Xena grinned. "You could have fooled me."

She stepped nearer to him, ready to kiss him again and he had to catch his breath, but held her back. "You know what I mean. Xena..." He was fighting with himself, now. "...I don't want you to regret..."

Xena's face grew serious and tender. "This is my choice. Not out of pity or pressure, but because I want to." She looked down. "You can't come with me, at least not right now." _I need time to think_, she thought. Her voice dropped down to a whisper. "But that doesn't mean I can't give you today." Her gaze was deep and sincere. "I'm okay."

To deny what she was offering would have been crazy. He knew what he wanted, and she was willing to give it to him, fully and openly. Whether she would regret it later, he didn't want to think about that.

He touched her palm, and he could feel her pulse beating softly but intensely. Trailing the side of her hand with his fingers, he looked into her eyes and she was completely vulnerable to his touch. He traced the curves of her skin, up her arm, lightly touching her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered closed as his hand gently lowered the leather strap.

Her lips were trembling now and she gazed at him. Moving toward him, she captured his lips with hers in an urgent, desperate kiss. He responded and pulled her toward him. His strength was there, his body pressing against her; she felt herself growing weaker in his embrace...

----------------------

They kissed for what seemed like hours.

By the time they broke the kiss, they were lying in the grass. They had removed their cloths at some point during their passionate embrace—it was all very much a blur now, so lost in each other.

He looked down at her and touched her cheek with the back of his hand as he shifted his body so he was lying directly on top of her. She looked into his eyes and touched his hand that was still on her cheek. She felt her heart beat faster, letting out a tiny gasp as she felt him rub against her—and she knew she was ready.

She felt a powerful sensation as they joined, and he felt it, too—the shock of it causing both of them to shudder for a brief moment. Blocking all worries or doubts from their minds, they kissed, and let their bodies take control, pulling them into untold bliss.

----------------------

The sun was beginning to set over the small farmhouse. Xena was standing in front of the door, lacing up the back of her leather shift as Ares walked toward her, buttoning his pants. She looked at him and there was a long silence between them. He reached out and touched her cheek and she allowed her eyes to close, to forget everything and think of only them.

"This is where you say you're leaving, isn't it?"

They both knew that it was going to happen—she'd even told him that before she allowed herself to be with him—and they both knew nothing would change her mind after they went through with it.

She gave him a half smile, and held his hand. "I'll see you again." It was a promise. She let her eyes drop down, unable to keep eye contact with him.

He looked at her for a long moment as she stepped back and picked up her breastplate lying on a bench beside the farmhouse door, beginning to fasten it to her outfit.

"Was it good for you?" He asked, quietly, as if needing proof that what they had shared was truly what she had wanted.

Xena looked up at him and her eyes said it all—tenderness and passion flickered across her face. She didn't know she could feel passion like that for him, a passion so mixed up with gentleness as well. Allowing herself complete surrender to his arms and his touch during a moment of real oneness scared her, and she wondered if she'd ever be able to forget it.

But she didn't want to forget.

Those last couple of hours had been her first, and probably only, release for her, where she hadn't felt like she needed to live in denial or uncertainty. All she had allowed herself to feel was the ability to be with him, at one with him, where everything finally made sense.

Maybe it was the start of something.

Xena smiled, a hint of a mischief, yet tenderness in her eyes. "No regrets."

He didn't need any other answer.

Securing her sword and chakram to her outfit, and putting on her gauntlets and armbands, she walked toward Argo who was grazing at the other end of the yard. Horace came running up to her, barking and jumping around excitedly. She saw him and stopped; the little dog wagging his tail. She smiled and gave his back a good rub. She knelt down and touched his muzzle, then rubbed his neck—and he was happy.

She whispered, "You take care of him, you hear?" The little mutt wagged his tail in agreement.

Xena straightened up and took Argo's reigns in her hands, preparing to lift herself up onto the mare's back.

"Xena."

She looked back and found Ares walking toward her. He wasn't desperate this time but there was a sadness in his eyes. He didn't want this day to end.

It was a look that was reflected in her own eyes, though she was stronger and more able to keep it in check.

She stood waiting for him to say something.

"Be safe." It was all he could say. Everything else he wanted to say didn't require words, and she would understand.

She nodded slowly, feeling the impact of those words. "You, too."

She knew he needed to hear her say that. His life was much more uncertain than hers, and they both knew that.

Xena lifted herself into the saddle. Looking one last time at Ares, one last tender glance, she clicked her tongue and rode off.

She had come there to make sure he was okay—and something completely unexpected changed between them. There were no regrets, only a strange longing. One day things might be different, and she would come back and they'd be together. For now, she needed to think, to let herself figure out what it is that she wanted and how Ares might really fit into that.

He understood now and knew that she cared. She knew it, too.

It was a start.

Riding up the hill, she urged Argo faster, the farmhouse soon becoming nothing more than a blurred view in the distance, enclosed by fog and mist. She had to be strong for both of them, now.

She didn't look back.

END


End file.
